Picture Perfect Family
by Myra109
Summary: No one knows what goes on behind closed doors in the Minkus home, not even Farkle's best friends. But secrets are meant to be found out... Child abuse, possible sexual abuse, alcoholism, drug abuse, language, self harm, suicide attempt, etc. Other warnings before chapters, bisexual character, Lucas/Farkle endgame, AU
1. Boy Meets Family

_This will follow Farkle's journey in an abusive home from episode one to the time where his friends find out (they will find out, but I'm not going to tell you when)_

 _Farkle really does have Aspergers. It doesn't play a big part until the episode Girl Meets Farkle, but you will see symptoms of it throughout the reading._

 _EPISODE: SEASON 1, EPISODE 1- GIRL MEETS WORLD_

 ** _Disclaimer: I own nothing_**

 ** _WARNINGS: CHILD ABUSE-PHYSICAL AND VERBAL_** ** _\- MENTIONS OF CHILD NEGLECT, BISEXUAL CHARACTER, BEGINNINGS OF BOYXBOY_**

* * *

Farkle loved his parents. No question about it.

But that didn't mean he always liked them, nor did that mean his parents-his mother, in particular- always loved him.

The abuse had been going on for as long as he could remember, and the neglect probably started long before that.

It started with his mother shaking him as a baby; it was a miracle he hadn't experienced brain damage or shaken baby syndrome. Then, it became a few smacks as a toddler; when he was six or seven, it became beating, and around age ten, his mother spiraled completely out of control. At least before then she could stop herself before she caused any real damage; after age ten, Farkle didn't have the luxury of knowing his mother had enough self control to keep him out of the hospital.

Farkle didn't know if his dad knew about all of this, but he had his own problems to worry about.

To start off with, Farkle's mother was hurting him, too. Not with the same intensity as she hurt Farkle, but the smacks and occassionally punches or plates thrown was still abuse.

Second of all, Stewart had wanted to leave Jennifer for years, but he knew that she would receive custody of Farkle. She was manipulative and an actress when it came to making Stewart the bad guy; this wasn't even mentioning that courts usually give custody to the mother unless there's evidence that suggests a different placement should be made.

But when Farkle was twelve, any handle he had on the situation dissolved.

* * *

A paper smacked on the kitchen table in front of Farkle, making him jump.

His father wasn't home (working late for the fourth time that week- it was Thursday), and his mother had arrived home early from her daily shopping spree.

"What's this?" She demanded.

"It's my history test," Farkle replied, nervously.

"What's at the top?" She asked, tapping her finger on the red letter at the top of the paper.

"My grade," Farkle responded.

"And what is your grade?" She asked in a sugary sweet voice.

"On the test? A B. In the cl-"

She snapped her fingers under his nose, making Farkle leap a few inches off his chair.

"A B! I thought you were supposed to be a genius," she snapped.

"I-I am, but I had a bad test. I wasn't concentrating and-"

She rolled her eyes. "Stop blubbering. Your father is going to be so disappointed."

"What? No, he is-"

His mother nodded, sadly. "He will be. We both know it. You're supposed to be his star student, his perfect genius, and you bring home a B. You won't be his perfect child anymore. He'll finally see that he has no reason to love you, just like I did the day you were born."

After spitting that final statement, she stormed into the living room and leaving Farkle at the table with a B sitting in front of him.

 _He'll be so disappointed..._

His mother was right. She was his mother. She wouldn't lie to him...

That's what Farkle told himself anyway.

Farkle stood and raced after his mother.

"Mother, please don't tell Father!" He begged her. "You're right. He'll be so disappointed-"

"No begging," his mother said as she picked up the phone. "I have to call Stacie. Leave me alone."

"But Mom-"

The back of her hand connected with his cheek. Her knuckles hit his eye, and he felt it begin to swell.

"Didn't we talk about the mom thing?" She sneered.

"Yes, Mother," Farkle said, staring at his feet.

"Tell you what," she said, placing the phone down and turning to face Farkle entirely. "I won't tell your father about the grade if you don't tell him about this," she proposed, touching her hand to his stinging eye.

He nodded. "Thank you, Mother."

"Now leave me to myself for a while."

Farkle nodded and grabbed his test before heading down the hall.

Farkle sat at his desk and opened his textbook to study so that he would never get a B again. He didn't need another swollen eye; it would be hard enough to lie his way out of _this_ one.

His phone rang, and Farkle picked it up as he began reading his assignment for English.

"Farkle Minkus speaking."

A familiar laugh sounded.

"We're your best friends, Farkle. I think we're past the formal stage."

Farkle chuckled. "Hey, Maya. How are you?"

"Once again, too formal. Just say what's up."

"What's up is the sky. I never understood why people use that statement."

"Anyway," a new voice spoke into the phone. "Maya's hanging out at my house. You want to come?"

"No thanks," he replied, knowing he'd have to find a way to hide his eye and not wanting to deal with it right now.

"You sure?" Riley asked. "You usually say yes."

"I'm sick," Farkle lied.

"Aww," Riley said. "Are you going to be in school tomorrow?"

Farkle laughed. "It's only a cold. Come on, Riley, do you _know_ me?"

"I do," she replied. "See you tomorrow and feel better."

"I will. Thanks."

Farkle hung up and sighed as he turned back to his textbook.

* * *

Farkle opened his history book to the correct page as the bell rang, and seconds later, Riley and Maya walked through the door.

"Maya, you need to do the homework," Riley was saying. "This teacher is insane, a total nut job. I think there's something seriously wrong with him."

"Hello, honey," Mr. Matthews said as Riley approached her seat in the front row.

"Hi, Daddy," she replied.

"You're late to your father's class," he pointed out.

"You wrote her a note," Maya said, handing Mr. Matthews a small slip of paper.

"I did?" He asked as he unfolded it before nodding with raised eyebrows. "Riley's late. Deal with it... hey, you got my signature down pretty good this time."

"It wasn't that hard, " Maya replied with a smile. "You write like a girl."

Mr. Matthews frowned as the girls took their seats.

"Anyway, I will return to stuffing knowledge into your heads," he began. "The Civil war!"

Yes, Farkle thought. He loved learning about the civil war... well, actually he just loved history in general.

"The civil bore!" Maya yelled.

"Thank you, Future Mini Mart employee of the month," Mr. Matthews exclaimed.

"Would I be making more than you?" Maya asked.

Yes, you'd be making a dollar and forty-five cents more an hour, Farkle calculated, trying to avoid rubbing his eye, lest he risk wiping off the concealer and revealing his black eye.

Mr. Matthews blinked. "The civil war," he announced, changing the subject. "Anybody?"

"A war we fought against ourselves, " Riley answered.

"You actually studied it?" Her father said in disbelief.

"No, I'm living it!" Riley muttered, dramatically, as she placed her head in her arms on her desk, which made her father frown.

"Are we here to learn or not, people?" Farkle demanded, wanting to return to familiar territory. This life lessons stuff was not his area of expertise (yet, but he didn't know that then).

"What, Farkle?" Mr. Matthews said.

"I've been in love with Riley since the first grade," Farkle gushed, "but I'm also equally in love with Maya. The question is who will become Mrs. Farkle Minkus?"

Humor is a good way to hide the pain. If he put a smile on his face, no one heard the screams in his head or the cracking of his heart.

"You don't want this," Maya replied with some of her famous spunk.

"Bring it on," Farkle responded, making her frown.

Did he do something wrong? Farkle had never been good with the social aspect of life. Now, textbooks and school... that was where he was most comfortable.

"I always thought he'd end up with Back of the Class Brena," Riley said as Maya turned back around.

They turned to face a black haired girl with glasses waving at them from the back of the class.

Farkle was kind of insulted they thought he'd end up with a geek just because he was one.

"Uggh," he muttered.

"The real mystery of life is how you can love two women the same who cannot be any more different," Mr. Matthews spoke up.

"We're not that different," Riley disagreed. Farkle almost laughed.

"May I overstep my bounds, sir?" Farkle called, raising his hand.

Farkle would never do that at home. His father would either ignore him or say go read a book (Stewart loved Farkle, but his head was always elsewhere. Farkle cherished the times his father took the time to come down from wherever his head was to come through for him), and his mother would either snap at him or smack him seven ways to Sunday if his father wasn't home.

But in this classroom... Farkle felt safe. This wasn't home; this wasn't World War III, like it was at home. He could be himself here without fear, and Farkle prayed that he would never lose that.

"You always do," Mr. Matthews said before switching with Farkle. He sat in Farkle's chair while Farkle strode confidently to the front and flipped the name plate on the desk over to reveal his name inscribed in the metal.

"Riley," Farkle said, dramatically, leaning over her desk, "is the sun and lights up my whole day."

He approached Maya's desk.

"Maya is the night, dark and mysterious, and the night has always been a mystery to me because I go to bed at seven thirty," Farkle explained (he went to bed early so that he would be asleep by the time his father got home and the inevitable fight occurred).

"How can I love these two women?" He asked. "How can I not? Thank you! I am FARKLE!" He shouted, bowing to the class before returning to his seat.

"We were trying to figure out who we were as a people," Mr. Matthews continued, bringing them back to the civil war as he flipped the name plate back to his own name. "Who am I? History shows that bad things happen when you don't know who you are."

The door opened, and a handsome blonde boy stepped inside.

"Who are you? I don't know who you are," Mr. Matthews said.

"Subway boy," Riley hissed to Maya.

"Um, Lucas Friar," he replied, handing Mr. Matthews a note, "from Austin, Texas."

"New student, Mr. Friar?" Mr. Matthews asked as he read the note.

"Yes, sir," Lucas replied.

"Great. You're just in time for today's assignment. Take a seat."

Lucas took a seat beside Farkle, and Farkle snapped his head away to avoid staring at him.

He wouldn't focus on Lucas's handsome face or his charming smile; those were bad thoughts, his mother often told him. He chose instead to focus on Riley's beautiful eyes and awkward smile as she stared at Lucas. Mr. Matthews grabbed her head and turned her around while Farkle returned his gaze to the teacher.

"Open your books to page forty-eight," Mr. Matthews ordered, and the students did so. "Now, turn to page one."

The students obeyed, puzzled.

"Now, I want you to read from page one to forty-eight."

The class groaned while Farkle focused on the reading to avoid staring at Lucas.

"Boo-hoo on you!" Mr. Matthews mocked. "Here's your assignment for tonight. I want you to write me a three page essay on something you believe in so strongly, you would fight for it."

" _That_ ," Maya replied, receiving several strange looks. "I'd fight for no homework. I come here everyday; why can't you teach me everything I need to know while I'm at school?"

She stood up.

"No homework, more freedom. No homework, more freedom," she chanted. "Who's with me?"

"No homework, more freedom! No homework, more freedom!" The class joined.

Maya murmured something to Riley while Lucas and Farkle stared around the room in bewilderment.

Riley stood up.

"Whatcha doing?" Her father asked.

"Making a choice about who I want to be," she replied.

"I know you, Riley. You know exactly who you are," her father stressed.

"Who am I, Dad?" She asked.

"You're just like me," Mr. Matthews said.

 _"Who am I, Dad?" Seven year old Farkle had asked his father on one of the rare times he was home._

 _"You're just like me, Farkle."_

But he wasn't. And honestly? That scared Farkle. His identity was not familiar territory. It was like wandering off the path in a dangerous, endless forest. It always seemed safer to stay on the path.

"Would you do this?" Riley asked before throwing her fist in the air. "No homework, more freedom!"

"Farkle, are you with us?" Maya called as she left the room, followed by Riley.

Confusion rolled inside Farkle. Leaving could mean his education suffering and his parents' wrath, but not leaving could mean losing his friends. For Farkle, it was black or white. There was no gray area. Risk his mother's anger or risk losing his best friends.

The world went black.

* * *

Farkle tumbled out of his seat, unconscious, and Lucas stared down at the boy.

"Should we get the nurse?" The blonde asked the teacher.

Mr. Matthews shook his head. "Oh, no, he's fine. This happens everyday."

Lucas nodded before getting on the floor to rouse Farkle.

"What?" Farkle muttered as he came to.

"You okay?" Lucas asked as he helped him stand.

"Yep," Farkle murmured as the dots vanished from his vision. "Thanks."

Lucas smiled. "You're welcome."

The bell rang, and Lucas left the room.

Farkle stared after him until Mr. Matthews had to come tap him on the shoulder.

Farkle shook his head and grabbed his books, trying to deny the truth.

Farkle Minkus- son of a workaholic father and a homophobic mother- had fallen head over heels for another boy.

* * *

"Would it kill you to be home a little more?" His mother shouted.

Farkle rolled over in his bed and pulled his blanket tight around him, trying to burrow himself under the covers, as though he could use them as protection.

"I'm trying to put food on the table!"

"Well, while you're at the office, I'm stuck wrangling the brat on my own!"

"He's not a brat, and don't tell me that Farkle ever bothers you. He barely talks!"

"When you're around! When you're not, he talks back and treats me like dirt."

His father sighed, but he didn't reply.

Farkle pushed down tears. Did his father really believe that? How long would it take before he saw Farkle as a burden, too?

The door opened, and Farkle went still, not daring to breathe.

The mattress sagged under his father's weight, and his father's thin fingers brushed through his hair.

His father sighed and left without another word.

Farkle was grateful for the darkness of his room. Otherwise, his father surely would've seen his black eye.

* * *

Farkle practically collapsed into the chair between Riley and Maya at their lunch table.

"Ladies," he smirked.

"Farkle," They muttered, flatly. He didn't notice.

"Interesting dilemma in the lunch line today," he informed them. "Chicken pot pie or sloppy joe? Or sloppy Joe or chicken pot pie?" He said, gesturing to his tray, which held both entrees.

"Is that all you had to say?" Maya asked.

"Yep," Farkle chirped. "Same time tomorrow."

Best friends, he thought as he walked away. Yeah, right.

He sat alone in the corner and ate his food while Lucas sat beside Riley and Maya.

The new kid was more accepted than he was.

His phone buzzed, and he picked it up.

His dad.

 _Hey, Farkle, I'm working late again. Try to be nice to your mother. She's under a lot of stress._

Farkle sighed, and he tried to remind himself that his father didn't know about the abuse. He didn't know that Farkle had heard the fight.

That still didn't put him in a better mood.

* * *

Farkle took a bite of his angel food cake as he strolled over to the other side of the cafeteria.

"You got two deserts," Maya pointed out as Farkle stopped between her and Riley.

"Angel's food cake," Riley said.

"And devil's food cake," Maya added. "Let me guess who's who."

"Hey, Farkle's just hungry," he snapped (more accurately, starving. His mother hadn't let him eat last night because he'd defended his father during one of her rants on him and his workaholic ways). "Not everything is about you."

Farkle walked away, anger still fueling him. How he wished he could say that to his mother.

But he never would. Not only would he get bruises, but he'd been raised to honor and respect his parents and authority in general...

But did that rule still apply when punishment became abuse?

* * *

"I'm glad you're back," Riley hissed as Lucas sat behind her.

"Me, too," Lucas whispered.

Why are they whispering? Farkle wondered.

Mr. Matthews stumbled over his daughter's desk to stand beside them.

"Apparently you have a more impaired sense of direction than I anticipated," Mr. Matthews muttered before pointing his fingers at his eyes and then at Lucas in the universal sign of I'm watching you.

"You are a really good looking guy," Mr. Matthews grumbled.

That, we can agree on, Farkle thought before stopping himself. He couldn't think like that. If his mother ever found out...

Mr. Matthews walked back to the front.

"Now, we are going to find out who in here believes in something so strongly that they'd fight for it," he announded. "Maya, present your homework."

"Can't do that, sir," she replied.

"Why not?"

"I didn't do the homework, sir."

"Why not?"

"That's what I'm fighting against, sir," she responded.

"This could go on for a while," Farkle muttered before snapping on a mask to cover his eyes and pretending to snore. "Farkle, Farkle, Farkle..."

There was some meaningless gabbering before someone snapped the mask against his face, and he blinked as he slipped it off.

"You're gonna wanna get up for this, Farkle," Maya said.

"Is it our honeymoon?" He asked.

"No, you missed that. It's time to hand in our essays," she said.

"Oh, I'll go first. Farkle always goes first!" He exclaimed before going to grab his diorama from the back of the room.

Farkle reappeared with a diorama almost bigger than he was with real sparklers.

"In the civil war, the two sides eventually made peace. I believe that peace is worth fighting for," he said, even though what he really wanted to say was:

My parents fight all the time, and there is almost never a peaceful moment in our house. If I could, I would fight for the peace, but fighting against my parents could make it worse.

Of course, he would never say that because it would mean betraying his parents, and he wasn't willing to do that, no matter how much his mother hurt him or how often his father worked late.

Maya grabbed one of the sparklers.

"Hey, that's a pivotal part of my diorama!" He said before Maya grabbed the second. "There goes Virginia..."

Except... that one didn't represent Virginia, at least not over all. The two sparklers Maya had grabbed represented his mother and father.

Somehow the metaphor made the war raging being the closed doors of his home more real.

Maya stood on a chair and pressed the sparkler against the essays in her hand, which Mr. Matthews scrambled over to grab.

"No homework, more FREEDOM!" She yelled, raising the sparkler above her head and setting off the sprinkles, which immediately began to make it rain indoors.

Farkle began to panic as he slipped into a flashback.

 ***FLASHBACK***

"Momma!" He laughed. "I made you a drawing."

Four year old Farkle ran up to his mother with his art project in his hand. His mother ahouldered away, the phone pressed against her ear.

"Yes, Joanna," she was saying. "What day?"

"Momma!" Farkle begged. "Don't you like it?"

"Shh," his mother hissed before returning to a phone call.

"MOMMA!" Farkle screamed, a temper tantrum seizing him from the lack of attention.

His mother growled, angrily, before grabbing his shoulder, throwing open the back door, and thrusting him outside. Into the pouring, freezing rain.

She slammed the door and turned away.

"Momma! Momma, I'm sorry!" Farkle cried, shivering in his short sleeved shirt. "Momma, please!"

She ignored him.

"Momma..."

 ***FLASHBACK***

Before Farkle knew it, he was wrestling to stay on Mr. Matthews's shoulders, seeking the closest person that could qualify as an actual parental figure. Mr. Matthews wouldn't leave him out in the rain like his mother did. On the contrary, he would protect him from it.

Sometimes Farkle wished Mr. Matthews was his parent, and he was ashamed of himself for thinking that.

"Farkle, get off!" Mr. Matthews yelled.

"Never!" Farkle yelled as panic seized every nerve. He wouldn't be left out in the cold. Not again. He refused to be.

* * *

Mr. Matthews walked out of the classroom with Farkle still on his shoulders.

"Down, Farkle," he ordered.

Safe from the rain, Farkle hopped to the ground and stood beside his teacher.

"Riley, go," Mr. Matthews instructed as her and Maya stood in front of them.

"I'm standing by my girl," Riley said.

"You missed your chance to stand by your girl," he said, sternly. "Take Farkle for a walk."

Defeated, Riley sighed and walked away with Farkle.

"What happened to your eye?" She asked.

Farkle's eyes widened as he realized that the sprinklers had rinsed off the concealer. Everyone had been so distracted, no one had even noticed.

"Oh, um, I fell into an end table," he lied.

Riley nodded, too distracted by her situation with Maya to pick up on the obvious lie.

And Farkle was thankful for that. If she had continued to ask questions, it would bring up a lot of questions that Farkle did not want to answer. Not now, not ever.

But he'd have to someday. Not someday soon, but someday, his friends would ask those very questions, and Farkle would have to answer them.

* * *

 _How was the first chapter? Did I do a good job of introducing the beginnings of Farkle/Lucas? I'm not good with romance-writing or living it- so I hope I did a good job on that._

 _Thanks for reading. Hit the review button._


	2. Boy Meets Boy

_This chapter is shorter than the last one. Sorry about that._

 ** _Disclaimer: I own nothing_**

 ** _WARNINGS: Bisexual character, beginnings of boyxboy_**

* * *

"You can't survive without these!" Mr. Matthews exclaimed, holding a cell phone. "You don't know how to communicate with each other. You use emoticons whether than emotions. You're a generation of unfeeling zombies."

Riley and Maya groaned and moaned like zombies, leaning toward each other and pretending to gnaw on each other's heads.

"Stop eating her!" Mr. Matthews scolded.

The door opened, and another student strolled into the room.

"You're late, Ms. Mazelle," Mr. Matthews admonished with raised eyebrows (I'm not sure how you spell her name).

"My gold fish died," she said, flatly, her expression dull and almost dead.

"See, this is the perfect example," Mr. Matthews said, slinging an arm around the student. "Ms. Mazelle has clearly suffered a tragic loss, but she's not in touch with her emotions."

"Excuse me?" The girl demanded, offended. "I am crying my eyes out. I'll have to leave class early."

Mr. Matthews frowned at her back as she opened the door and strolled out of the room, closing it behind her.

"Hey, she actually made it out the door this time," he laughed, turning the handle and reopening the door.

"I actually made it out the door this time!" The girl exclaimed in excitement before reentering the class and taking her seat.

"But Dad, cell phones have been around for like ever," Riley pointed out.

Cell phones have only been around since 1973, Farkle thought.

"I think you'd be surprised to know that there was an entirely different world before you and cell phones," Mr. Matthews said.

"I think you would be surprised to know that I have 394 friends in here," Riley said, tapping her phone.

Farkle still couldn't believe she got away with talking back. If he used that mocking tone with his mother, he'd have quite a few bruises to remind him of his mistake.

"No, you don't," her father replied before approaching the door and dragging a piece of chalk across it to form a line. "This is a time line of all human existence.

"Starting here," he continued, tapping the left side of the board where the line began, "represents every person who every lived, laughed, and loved. The cell phone era, which starts about her," he said, drawing a vertical line not even an inch from the end of the time line, "pretty much destroys all of that," he told them, gesturing to the rest of the time line. "Wait a go, you!"

"Mr. Matthews, if I may take a different standpoint," Lucas said, raising his hand.

Farkle focused on the teacher and tried not to look at the handsome boy beside him.

"Of course, Mr. Friar," Mr. Matthews said, sarcastically. "Do I go too far?"

"Always, sir," Lucas said, looking slightly afraid of the teacher. "I use my phone to video chat my old friends in Texas."

"Yeah, how else would he keep up on all the how-downs and cattle pageants?" Maya said in a Texan accent.

"Maya," Riley sing songed.

"It's okay, Riley," Lucas said. "I'm unaffected by Maya's views of country life. As my uncle always said, be like an eagle and soar above the mocking bird."

Maya turned around so that Lucas wouldn't see her face turn red in embarrassment.

"You're the mocking bird," Riley murmured.

"I know," Maya said, flatly, before turning to face Lucas. "It kills me that I can't get to you."

"I'm sorry, ma'am," Lucas replied, tipping an imaginary hat.

Maya grumbled.

"Farkle time, sir?" Farkle asked.

"Ooh, I love Farkle time!" Mr. Matthews exclaimed before switching with Farkle.

Farkle stood at the front of the room.

"With all due respect to history, Mr. Matthews, the things that are important to our generation are on this side of the time line," Farkle said, pointing to the end of the line. "Where Farkle and technology rule," he added.

The class and teachers looked a little frightened at that.

"I will be able to make another one of you," Farkle said, plucking a hair out of Riley's head.

"Ow," Riley said.

"And another one of you," Farkle added, plucking a hair out of Maya's collection of golden locks.

"Ow," she said, flatly.

"So there's four of us and one of you?" Riley asked.

"That's awesome," Farkle said. "The future, you cannot escape it. I AM FARKLE!"

Mr. Matthews and Farkle switched back, and Farkle slid into his chair as Mr. Matthews continued the lesson.

"The assignment, you cannot escape it. I am teacher," Mr. Matthews said. "You will be split up into teams, and you will decide whether technology has made you better people. You will do a presentation on your findings, and the twist? No computers."

"What?!" Farkle exclaimed.

He'd been raised in a technology based family. His father ran a technology business for Pete's sake!

"You will be doing your research at the town library," Mr. Matthews announced.

"Where?" Maya demanded.

"And as for the teams... Maya and Riley, you're together."

The girls hissed the word yes in excitement.

"Farkle, you're with Lucas."

Farkle blinked. He was paired with the handsome boy he had a crush on and was trying to stay away from to avoid his feelings? Not good, not good!

"And since I don't trust you, give me your cell phones."

Farkle blanched. He used his phone to communicate with his parents, his mother in particularly. She often texted him to pick stuff up on the way home. The one time his phone had died and he hadn't seen the messages? Not good, not good.

"But Mr. Matthews, I use my phone to communicate with my parents," Farkle pleaded.

"You're a part of the class, Farkle. In, it goes," Mr. Matthews said, holding out the tub of cell phones, and Farkle sighed before dropping his phone into it.

He had a feeling this wasn't going to end well.

* * *

Farkle walked inside after school to find his mother waiting.

"Where's the milk?" She asked.

"What do you mean?" Farkle questioned.

"I texted you asking you to pick up milk on the way home," she said, slowly. "Where is it?"

"I didn't get it, Mother," Farkle mumbled, staring at his trembling legs.

"Are you ignoring my texts now?" His mother exploded, and Farkle shook harder.

"No! Mr. Matthews took my phone as a part of an assignment," he whimpered as his mother clenched her fists.

"Did you tell him that you need it so I can text you or call you?" His mother demanded.

"I tried, but-"

"Obviously, you didn't try hard enough!" She grabbed his shoulders and pinned him against the wall.

"Mother, I'm-"

A fist struck his ribs, and Farkle doubled over as much as could, gasping in pain.

"Go to the store and pick up the milk like I asked you, too. Since that milk is for dinner tonight, you're not having any."

"But Mother, that's three nights in a row without dinner!"

"Want to make it four?"

Farkle deflated in defeat.

"No, ma'am, I'll go to the store."

As Farkle stepped outside, it began to rain, but his mother didn't call him back in.

Farkle sighed and put his hood up before beginning the long walk to the store.

* * *

"Mother," Farkle said, hesitantly. "I'm going to the library tonight. My friends and I have a project."

His mother nodded. "Who are these friends?"

"Maya, Riley, and Lucas."

His mother looked away from the television.

"Lucas?" She asked with raised eyebrows.

"Yss, he's a new kid from Texas," Farkle answered.

"Do you like him?"

Farkle shook his head, rapidly. "Not in that way," he lied.

"Good," his mother said, standing and taking him by the shoulders. "Because those are bad thoughts, the ones you shouldn't be having about other boys. Right?"

Her sharp finger nails dug into his skin. Her thumb curled over his collar and pricked his shoulder so hard, he knew it left a mark.

"Yes, Mother," he replied, just as the door bell rang.

His mother answered it.

"You must be Lucas," she said.

"I am, and you're Farkle's mother?" Lucas said, politely.

"Unfortunately," she muttered. After all, Lucas wasn't even a teenager yet; he wouldn't report anything. She didn't need to keep her 'perfect mother' act up around most children and teens, Lucas included. Now Riley? That was a whole other matter, considering she told her parents everything.

Lucas frowned. "What is that supposed to m-"

"Let's go!" Farkle exclaimed as he rushed to the door with his backpack. "Don't want to keep Maya and Riley waiting."

Lucas looked like he wanted to say more, but Farkle bid goodbye to his mother and shut the door behind him.

"What was that all about?" Lucas asked as they walked down the sidewalk.

"My mother isn't the most... affectionate person," Farkle said.

"Did she do that?" Lucas asked, pointing to a mark on Farkle's collarbone. The mark his mother's fingernails had left on him.

"Um, no, that was our neighbor's baby. She has some sharp fingernails," Farkle lied, and Lucas gave a confused laugh before dropping the subject.

He didn't like lying to his friends. He hated it, but it was lie to them or betray his parents. Farkle was a loyal person; he would never betray his family...

Even if they betrayed him.

* * *

Farkle rang the buzzer.

"Farkle," he said.

"And Lucas," Lucas added.

Minutes later, Riley and Maya arrived.

* * *

"What is this place?" Maya hissed as they walked through the library.

"It's where the ancients kept all their knowledge," Farkle answered, dramatically.

"Look at all of those," Maya gaped at a bookshelf full of books.

"Books," Farkle supplied. "Hey, Ms. Walters!" He whispered, and the librarian waved.

"You know her?" Lucas asked as they claimed a table.

"Yeah, I come to the library to get away from my parents' fighting," Farkle said before freezing as he realized his slip up.

"Do they fight a lot?" Maya asked.

Farkle nodded.

"About what?" Maya pressed.

"Dad works too much, Mom spends too much, I don't help around the house enough, fairly normal stuff."

Maya pursed her lips.

"My parents used to fight a lot, too."

Farkle stared at her before nodding. They could relate. Maybe not on everything, but they both felt abandoned, unloved by their parents. They didn't need words to describe the connection.

Lucas, turning away from the conversation, picked up a book and blew away the dust.

"Tales of Human interaction," he said.

Farkle took the novel and opened it.

"Only when we put down our phones and turn off our computers and look into each other's eyes will we finally be able to see into each other's hearts," he read aloud.

"Like that's gonna work for anyone," Maya snorted as her and Riley ventured off to do their own research.

Farkle laughed, and his eyes happened to meet Lucas's.

They fixed their eyes on the other, and for a moment, they were captivated by each other's eyes. Nothing else seemed to matter in that one moment.

Finally, Farkle returned to the here and now and the eye contact made him uncomfortable (as eye contact usually did), and he tore his gaze away. Lucas did the same.

* * *

"I think the thing I miss most about Texas are the pets I used to have," Lucas confessed.

"I had a stuffed bear," Farkle offered. "My parents thought pets were too most work."

Lucas shrugged. "They are a lot of work, but it's worth it. I would know. I had twenty four horses."

"Wow," Farkle replied.

"One time, Sarah was fouling."

"Giving birth," Farkle added.

"Not bad, city boy," Lucas laughed.

Farkle shrugged. "I read a lot. Go on."

"I was the only one home, so I called a doctor and he talked me through it. Did you know that a baby horse can stand within an hour after birth?"

"Amazing," Farkle responded.

"I've never told this to anyone, but I want to be a vetanarian someday," Lucas admitted. "Now, I have a question for you: why do you want to take over the world so badly?"

Farkle thought about it for a minute.

"Well, I look around, and I... don't see what I want to see. Homeless people, poverty, parents hurting their children, uneducated people who don't have the opportunities I have. If I ruled the world, I would change these things. I guess I just want to see what I can do with it," Farkle said. "Now, I have never told that to anyone, so don't go blabbing."

Lucas laughed. "You can count on me."

Farkle would be lying if he said that he didn't lock that memory away in his mind to cherish forever.

* * *

"How did the research go?" His father asked as Farkle entered the house. His mother wasn't present, so she was either out or in bed.

"Good," Farkle replied. "How was work?"

"Busy," his dad replied. "Farkle, it's been a while since we actually talked. Tell me about this project and this new friend of yours, Lucas."

Farkle gaped. His dad actually wanted to talk to him. He couldn't remember the last time his dad stopped working long enough to have a conversation with him!

As if on cue, his dad's phone rang, but Stewart simply hit the power button, silencing the call.

"Dad, that could've been important," Farkle said.

Stewart smiled. "They can wait."

This was the best night Farkle had had in a long time.

* * *

"Phone for you," Mr. Matthews said, placing a phone on Maya's desk. "Phone for you," he chirped, giving Riley her phone.

"No talking, no feelings!" He said, and Farkle vaguely wondered what had happened there. "Let's get on with the presentations."

Farkle, Lucas, Maya, and Riley came to the front.

"When I turned off my phone, I learned things I never knew," Riley said, pulling a slip of paper out of her pocket and unfolding it to reveal an amazing illustration. "Maya drew this; neither of us knew about her talent until last night. I've been carrying it around in my pocket where my phone used to be."

"We learned that turning off our phones offers us the opportunity to talk," Lucas said. "Farkle and I didn't know each other very well before the project, but... we're good friends now."

"It helped people outside of this classroom," Farkle added, and Mr. Matthews raised his eyebrows in curiosity. "For those of you that don't know, my dad is the CEO of a huge company, and he's always at work or on the phone. Last night, my dad asked me to tell him all about this project and my new friend, " Farkle explained, gesturing to Lucas. "His phone rang. Normally, my dad would've dropped everything to answer that call, but this time, he took out his phone and ignored it. Then, he had a conversation with me without answering any calls or texts or emails. I don't think we've had a straight conversation like that in over a year. The lesson Mr. Matthews gave us expanded outside this classroom."

The class applauded.

* * *

The class filtered out, but Farkle stayed behind.

"Sir," Farkle said, approaching Mr. Matthews.

He smiled. "Farkle. What's up?"

"Thank you," Farkle said. Mr. Matthews didn't need him to elabroate for him to understand.

Mr. Matthews smiled. "Any time. Tell your father he got lucky with you."

Farkle smiled. "Thanks, Mr. Matthews. I don't think anyone's ever said that to me."

Farkle left the classrom, and Cory smiled at him as he left before turning back to grade his papers.

* * *

 _The part where Cory is like no talking, no feelings is because Riley mentioned now that she could interact, she could finally talk to Lucas. That part isn't included because this is in Farkle's point of view and Farkle wasn't there for that._

 _See you guys next time. Hit the review button._


	3. Boy Meets Sneak Attack

_Sorry it took thus chapter so long. I knew what I wanted to write, but I didn't know how to put my ideas into words. My fellow writers understand that, and if you don't know what I'm talking about, basically I had a less extreme case of writers block (so I had the ideas but wasn't sure what the best way to write and organize them was)._

 ** _Disclaimer: I own nothing_**

 ** _WARNINGS: NONGRAPHIC SEXUAL ABUSE (IT'S NOT VERY GRAPHIC, BUT IT WILL BE ITALICIZED IF YOU WANT TO SKIP IT); PHYSICAL/MENTAL ABUSE; SUICIDAL THOUGHTS AND SOMEWHAT OF AN ATTEMPT (YOU'LL SEE WHAT I MEAN WHEN I READ IT); HOMOSEXUALITY (AFTER THIS CHAPTER, I WILL STOP PUTTING THIS AS A WARNING)_**

* * *

"Mother!" Farkle whispered.

"What?" His mother muttered from where she lay face down on the sofa with an empty bottle of vodka beside her.

"I'm going to the Matthews," he responded. "Here. I made you something to help with the hang over."

He handed her a bottle of blood red liquid with a stick of celery sprouting from the drink. His mother's ring clinked against the glass, causing a few drops to spill onto the carpet.

He froze.

"You little brat," she mumbled, going to smack him but missing him by at least a foot. "Clean that up and get out of my sight before I make you regret it."

Farkle nodded. "Yes, Mother."

Farkle hurriedly cleaned the spilled drops before a knock sounded at the door.

"Ugg!" His mother groaned, clutching her head. "It's six am. Go to the door and tell them to leave."

"It's actually almost ten, Mother," Farkle corrected, "and it's probably Maya. I'll see you later, Mother."

His mother drifted back off to sleep while Farkle opened the door, and Maya grinned at him.

"How are you, my little wei-" She began, loudly.

Farkle clamped a hand over her mouth.

"My mother's sleeping," he hissed before pulling his hand away in disgust. "Did you just lick me?"

She shrugged. "You could've just told me to shut up," she pointed out in a much quieter voice.

"Then, you would've beat me up," Farkle said, wiping his hand on his pants.

"True. Now, come on," she said.

Farkle glanced at his mother, still passed out on the couch, and Maya glanced over his shoulder. Farkle quickly shut the door, making sure to do it as quietly as possibly.

"Is your mom okay?" Maya asked, gesturing to the door.

Farkle nodded. "Yeah. She went partying with some of her friends last night, and... yeah."

Maya nodded. "Okay. Let's get to Riley's and figure out what today's life lesson is going to be."

* * *

"Maya, oatmeal," Mrs. Matthews called as Farkle and Maya entered the home of the Matthews family.

"No, thanks," Maya replied.

"I wasn't asking," Mrs. Matthews said in a sugary voice that actually told them she meant business. "You, too, Farkle."

"Oh, thanks. I'm starving," he responded.

His mother hadn't let him eat dinner the night before, and he hadn't eaten breakfast because he was afraid if he made too much noise in the kitchen, his mother would have his head.

Farkle sat at the table and began shoveling food into his mouth.

"Geesh," Mr. Matthews commented. "Do your parents feed you?"

"My mom hasn't done the grocery shopping," Farkle said, which was a lie. His mother had done the shopping (or more accurately, she had him do the shopping); she just didn't let him have any of the food.

Sometimes Farkle wished he could live at the Matthews' full time.

"Guess what, Auggie?" Mr. Matthews grinned. "It's Googly Time!"

"No TV at the table," Mrs. Matthews instructed.

"Right," Mr. Matthews said. "The table is a time to get caught up with each other's lives. Maya?"

She glanced at him, strangely. "I woke up, got bored, came here."

"Like every other morning," Mr. Matthews added. "Riley."

"I woke up; I love everything," she remarked.

"Farkle."

Farkle blinked. He wasn't used to people asking him about his day; his dad was rarely home, and his mother really didn't care about how his day went (Farkle still held onto hope that she cared for him at least a little).

"Dad left early for work; Mom fell asleep on the couch; I had nothing to do, so I called Maya and here we are!" He recalled, eating his oatmeal.

"Okay, all caught up," Mr. Matthews settled on. "Now, Googly Time!"

Mrs. Matthews sighed in defeat as Mr. Matthews turned on the tablet sitting on the counter, and music began playing, which the kids and Mr. Matthews sang along to.

Auggie stood up from his seat and hit the power button, turning off the tablet.

"Hey," Farkle, Maya, and Riley complained.

"I'm too old for Mr. Googly," Auggie said before heading into the living room to sit on the couch.

"What?" His mother squawked, following him and sitting beside him. She picked up his stuffed Googly friend, a big blue monster with bulging eyes. "Don't you remember? I'm your Foogly Googly friend."

"Can I tell you a secret?" Auggie asked the stuffed animal.

"Sure!" Mrs. Matthews chirped in a high pitched voice. "You can tell Mr. Googly all your secrets!"

"Okay," Auggie responded before hissing, "I have a new best friend now."

"And who is this new best friend?" Mrs. Matthews asked in the same high pitched voice.

"I don't want to tell you who she is," he muttered.

The teens and Riley's father gaped.

"She?" They drawled in unison.

He got a girlfriend before me? Farkle thought. How?

He knew how. He just didn't want to admit it. After all, how can you fall in love with a girl when you're hopelessly in love with a boy?

Farkle tried not to think about Lucas.

"I've said too much," he muttered. "I'm this many," he added, holding up five fingers. "I'm done with you now."

Auggie lifted the stuffed animal out of his mother's arms and placed him face down on the couch while Mrs. Matthews stared at him, horrified.

"They grow up so fast," Riley stated before the three of them turned back to their food while Mr. and Mrs. Matthews appeared to be having a crisis.

* * *

"Sneak attack," Mr. Matthews announced at school on Monday morning. "December 7, 1941."

He knew this!

"A date which will live in infamy!" He volunteered.

"Date," Riley muttered. "They're going on a date. In Italy?"

Farkle followed her forlorn gaze to see Lucas giggling with another classmate he'd never thought to learn the name of.

Farkle snapped his head away as the jealousy and the bad thoughts, as his mother called them, began to creep in.

"No, honey," Maya said with a sugary sweet smile. "You're in history."

"I'm history?" She murmured.

At least you were there to begin with, Farkle thought, staring at Lucas and the girl. I didn't even stand a chance.

"Here," Maya said, grabbing Riley's limp hand and sticking it in the air. "Put your hand up."

"Yes, Riley?" Mr. Matthews said, looking just as confused as most of the class. "You have an observation on the subject of the sneak attack?"

"May I be excused?" Maya suggested, quietly.

"May I see my shoes?" Riley said, almost slurring her words.

Mr. Matthews blinked and turned to Maya, who gestured to Lucas and the girl with her head.

Mr. Matthews' mouth formed an o shape as realization overcame him.

"Yes, Riley. You may be excused," he said.

"Forever?" Riley asked, hopefully.

"No, honey," he said. "You have to come back to class at some point. You just gotta."

She nodded and walked like a zombie towards... the chalk board?

She ran into the board, and Mr. Matthews gently shoved her shoulder. The momentum pushed her in the path of the door, and she exited the room.

Is this what heart break does to everyone? Farkle thought. If that's the case, I'm not even sure if I want to fall in love.

He tuned back into Mr. Matthews's lecture.

"It was another sunny day in paradise," he announced, "before the sneak attack that changed everything."

"Do you want to go to the movies?" The girl was asking Lucas. "It's dark at the movies."

Farkle happened to glance over the girl's shoulder, and his eyes widened as Riley appeared at the window, almost stalking Lucas, like a predator stalking its prey.

"You like scary movies?" Lucas asked.

"I get scared at scary movies, but you'll take care of me, right?" She asked.

Farkle blinked as Riley smashed her nose against the window to get a closer look.

"These people, who felt so safe and secure before, now had no security at all," Mr. Matthews continued, seemingly not noticing whatever was going on in his classroom.

"Just you and me, Missy?" Lucas said, looking a little uncomfortable.

"Just you and me, Lucas," Missy confirmed. "Boop," she added, popping Lucas on the nose with her finger.

Farkle watched as Riley had a mini meltdown in the hallway before returning to the room.

"Boop?" She demanded, stopping between the desks of Lucas and Missy. "Boop? You don't think I can do boop?"

"Please be cool, please be cool," Maya begged under her breath. "Farkle, how bad do you think this is going to be?"

"I think we should have faith in our Riley," he told her.

"I can do boop so much better than you!" She exclaimed. "Boop!"

"Never mind," Farkle murmured to Maya.

"Is anyone else seeing this?" Riley mumbled, staring at her finger stuck in Lucas's nose. Apparently, she'd missed the tip of Lucas's nose and instead, inserted her finger into his nostril.

"Everyone is seeing this," Maya replied.

Riley blinked.

"Take your finger out," Maya advised.

"Frozen," Riley responded through gritted teeth. "Can't move. Maya?"

"Honestly, I've never seen anything like this, so I don't know what's going to happen," Maya admitted.

"Farkle?" Riley squeaked.

"Farkle to the rescue!" He cheered before grabbing Riley's wrist and dragging her finger away from Lucas. "Maya?"

"On it," she said before placing her arms around Riley's midsection and dragging her from the room.

"The bombing of Pearl Harbor was our official entrance into a world at war," Mr. Matthews continued, "and nothing would ever be the same."

* * *

"Do you want me to bring you lunch?" Farkle asked.

"No. Food would only keep me alive," Riley muttered.

"Come on, little plant," Maya pouted. "Come back into the sun."

"I'm scared something bad will happen if I ever come out of here," Riley confessed.

Maya laughed. "Don't be ridiculous. Nothing can be worse than what just happened."

"Hello," Missy said as she arrived. "You're not mad at me or anything, are you? I didn't hear that you and Lucas were together or anything."

"We're not," Riley said, flatly.

"Then, you wouldn't mind if I asked him out?" Missy asked. "Because he is gorgeous."

Farkle narrowed his eyes.

"Back off, Miss Lady in Pink!" He sneered.

The girl frowned and turned to walk away.

"Geesh, Farkle," Maya chuckled. "Don't know you had a dark side."

"I get it from my mom."

The words slipped off of Farkle's tongue before the statement truly hit him.

His mom's dark side scared him. If Farkle had to choose one thing he didn't want to get from her, it would be that.

"I have to go," he mumbled, slowly walking away to go hide in the janitor's closet.

Maya stared after him for a moment in confusion before returning her concern to Riley.

* * *

The fight started at the dinner table.

The Minkus family didn't eat together often, but his father had called a family dinner because he had some big news.

Dinners in the Minkus house were always quiet, awkward, maybe even formal, and this one was no exception.

After ten minutes of a silence only broken by the clink of silverware against plates, his father rested his fork on the plate and turned to his son and wife.

"I have some news," he announced. "The company has a huge chance to expand. If we play our cards right, we could expand all the way to Asia!"

"That's fantastic!" Farkle's mother exclaimed.

"Great work, Dad," Farkle agreed.

"There is one catch," Stewart said, slowly. "I have to go on a business trip."

"For how long?" Farkle asked.

"A long time," Stewart answered, avoiding a specific answer.

"How long?" Jennifer demanded in a much sterner tone than Farkle.

"A year, give or take a few months," his father said.

"What?" His mother exploded. "While you go traveling around the world, you're leaving me to take care of our son without your help. Oh, well, I guess that isn't much different from normal!"

"Jennifer, it's a wonderful opportunity!" Stewart stressed.

"A wonderful opportunity? For you, yes! Now, I have to sit around the house with no additional help from you to raise the boy."

"He has a name, Jennifer!"

Jennifer ripped her wedding ring off her finger and threw it at Stewart incredibly hard. It hit his eye, which began to swell.

"I should never have married you," she sneered. "You're a business man, and you're going to leave me here alone!"

"You're not alone. Your son will still be here!"

"Like he counts!" Jennifer screeched before picking up a plate and throwing it at Stewart.

Stewart ducked and the plate shattered against the wall. Some shards showered down on Stewart, and others ricocheted off the wall and missed Farkle by milimeters.

"I'm going to Riley's!" He yelled.

"You do that!" Stewart agreed.

"Yeah, run away, just like your no good, cowardly father!" His mother snarled as Farkle opened the door and shut it behind him.

He ran out the front door and left the screaming match behind him. He could only hope he'd have a family and a home to return to, and not just two broken soldiers and a scarred battlefield.

* * *

Farkle took a deep breath and plastered on a smile before opening Riley's window and leaning over the sill, grinning at his two best friends.

"Hello, ladies!" He exclaimed, trying to act as normal as possible.

It's amazing what a smile can hide...

"You were out there?" Riley remarked.

Farkle shrugged. "I'm always out there."

It was true. If his parents' fighting or his mother's abuse became too unbearable, Farkle would sit outside Riley's window. He didn't always go in; it was just nice to be near her and her amazing family. Farkle wished he could be apart of the Matthews family sometimes, but he knew it was only a daydream that would never come true.

"Farkle, you're the biggest flirt in seventh grade," Riley pointed out.

"Why, thank you," Farkle said, tilting his head and wiggling his eyebrows flirtatiously as if to prove a point.

"Can you teach me how to flirt with Lucas?" She asked.

Farkle nodded. "Sure."

"I thought you liked her," Maya stated.

Farkle shrugged. "I like you both, and I want you to be happy. I'd do anything for you."

I love you enough to let you go, he thought. I wish my mother loved us enough to let us go, and I wish my father loved me enough to let her go.

Farkle loved his mother; he'd give up everything for her to be happy. But if he tried to make her happy, he'd end up hurting someone else-Riley, Maya, Mr. Matthews, his dad, maybe even Lucas.

Those people were the only reason Farkle hadn't obeyed his mother's constant commands to go kill himself.

* * *

When Farkle returned home, his father was gone. He'd left for his business trip without a goodbye call. Farkle didn't know why he'd expected differently.

Farkle sighed and crawled into bed without even bothering to change his clothes.

* * *

 _When Farkle woke up, he found someone lying beside him._

 _"Mom," he muttered, still half asleep. "What are you doing?"_

 _"Shh," she whispered, and Farkle felt her fumbling with the zipper on his jeans._

 _"No," he murmured before the reality of the situation set in, and his voice rose in volume. "No! No!"_

 _His mother clamped a hand over his mouth._

 _"Shut up," she hissed. "You will let me do what I want and do what I say without compliant. You will tell no one about this. Not your father, your teacher, your friends, no one. Failure to comply to these simple rules will mean me switching your school, and you can say goodbye to those friends you love so much. Got it?"_

 _Farkle nodded._

 _"Good."_

 _Her hand left his mouth and moved lower, and Farkle choked back the tears desperately trying to fight their way out of his eyes._

 ** _"It was another sunny day in paradise before the sneak attack that changed everything."_**

 _Farkle's life had never been sunny to begin with, but compared to his life now-the sexual abuse and the shame that came with it- his life had been paradise. He'd take beatings over molestation any day. At least he could escape the house and get away from the physical abuse. The sexual abuse was emotional turmoil, and Farkle couldn't distract himself from it, like he could when the abuse was just physical and mental._

 ** _"And nothing would ever be the same."_**

* * *

Farkle sat beside Maya and Riley the next day, and he twirled his fork in his food, not eating. Farkle was almost always hungry, but every time he tried to force himself to eat today, the memory of last night crept up on him, and he felt nauseous.

"Is there a seat with you guys?" Lucas asked as he stopped beside Riley.

Farkle didn't look up from his green beans.

They know, a tiny voice in the back of his head hissed. They're disgusted by you.

Farkle knew that was irrational. He hadn't told anyone. He'd bought some make up from the convenience store to cover the dark circles from lack of sleep and the blotchy skin from crying. He'd plastered on a fake smile, and after all these years, Farkle's mask of happiness and confidence was bullet proof. No one could see through it. No one could bring down the walls he'd constructed to hide his dark secrets. How could anyone possibly know?

"There's always room for you, buddy!" Riley exclaimed before turning to Maya. "I said buddy. I'm not helping myself, am I?"

Lucas had barely sat down when She walked over and grinned down at him, grabbing his arm and dragging him to his feet.

Farkle felt the ugly green monster rear up inside him, and he absent mindedly squashed his green beans with his plastic fork until they were a pile of green muck.

"Hey, Lucas," Missy said. "I thought if we're going to the movies together, I should know what kind of snacks you like, so I can buy some for you. I wouldn't want you to have to buy everything," she told him as she lead him to another table and pushed him into a chair.

"You're toast," Farkle stated.

"I know," Riley pouted.

"Are you saying she flirts better than you?" Maya asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh, nobody's better than Farkle," Farkle said. "I just don't think my young protégé is ready for that monster."

"What are you going to do, genius?" Maya smiled.

"I think I'll just steal her from Lucas myself," Farkle settled on.

"You would do that for me?" Riley asked.

"Well, I'm certainly not doing it for me, toots," Farkle replied.

Yes, I am, Farkle mentally corrected. If I can't be with Lucas, I'd rather see him with Riley than that beast. At least I know I won't rip Riley's head off if she flirts with him.

"She's evil," he continued. "If I'm not back in two minutes, she ate me. How's my hair?"

"Hasn't changed in six years," Maya pointed out.

"She doesn't stand a chance," Farkle bragged, but as soon as he turned away, his smile dropped.

Smiling had never been so hard...

Still, he plastered on a grin as he stopped to stand beside Her.

"Hello, lady," he drawled.

Lucas grinned, even though Farkle was obviously flirting with his date to the movies. Farkle knew Lucas didn't want to hang out with Her!

"Why would you want to go to the movies with a boy," he asked, "when you can go with... a man?" He exclaimed, slamming his foot on the table, dramatically.

"Cute," She said. "You're next."

Farkle blinked and sat back down beside Maya.

"It worked!" He said. "I'm next!"

Riley sighed. "I don't want to see him with her," she stated before standing.

This could get interesting... Farkle thought.

"Lucas," Riley said, "I don't think you should hang out with this girl."

Lucas smiled, not the least bit offended.

"Why not?" He asked.

"I think if you hang out alone with her, it'll change things for all of us," Riley said, glancing at Farkle and Maya.

Got that right, Farkle thought.

"How can I get Lucas alone with you around?" She smirked, and Lucas frowned, but before he could say anything, She splashed a handful of potatoes in both her face and Lucas's. "Food fight."

"No food fight," Mr. Matthews said, storming over. "Detention, both of you."

She smirked.

And I thought this was ugly before, Farkle thought.

* * *

"So why do you want to go detention?" Maya asked.

They were standing outside Mr. Matthews's classroom, ready to run in, attack him, and get detention.

Farkle contemplated on how to put this.

The truth? He was afraid to go home. He didn't know if the sexual abuse was a one time thing or even just something that his mother did at night, but he wasn't taking any chances. He wanted to stay out of the house as much as possible in order to escape the fists pounding him and the hands that touched him where they shouldn't.

"I... don't want to go home," he settled on.

Maya stared at him, but she understood, so she didn't press the matter.

A small part of Farkle wished she did.

"Guest _stars_?" Mr. Matthews was saying, putting emphasis on the plural ending.

Maya raced in and leaped on his back, making him kneel on the ground.

Riley ran her fingers over his lips while Farkle pinched his nose and ear.

"Detention," Mr. Matthews said with a nasal tone. "Why do you want detention, Farkle?"

Farkle shrugged as the three friends released him.

"Does it matter?" He asked.

Mr. Matthews shrugged. "I guess not."

But the teacher still looked suspicious.

* * *

"How you doing?" Riley said with a smirk as Missy and Lucas arrived at detention.

"What are you doing here?" Missy snapped.

"I'm a bad girl," Riley bragged.

"You don't want to mess with this girl," Maya stated.

"What about you?" Lucas laughed, looking at Farkle.

Farkle shrugged. "I go wherever they go."

"What are these?" Missy questioned, picking up Riley's name tag- it was a neat, colorful tag with letter stickers that spelled her name. Lucas, Maya, and Farkle all had similar ones.

"Place tags," Riley answered. "You're over there," she added, pointing to a bland name tag placed on a desk in the back of the classroom. Instead of the colorful stickers that decorated Riley, Maya, Lucas, and Farkle's, Missy was spelled in sloppy, crooked handwriting with a Sharpie.

"Actually, I think this seat has my name on it," she corrected, sitting in the seat beside Lucas.

"Well, everyone," Mr. Matthews interrupted. "I like my detentions to have a bit of learning to it, so I thought we'd continue talking about Pearl Harbor and what happened after the sneak attack.

"Alliances were formed, and these Alliances were made stronger because of this. The US was put to one of its greatest tests when there was a threat to our way of life."

"Hey, Farkle, Riley, Maya," Lucas suddenly said. "Missy invited me to see a movie with her."

Farkle sighed. No need to make me- I mean _Riley_ \- feel worse by repeating that.

"I think she's aware of that, Lucas," Missy said. "No need to make her feel worse."

"I was wondering if you guys would like to come along," Lucas continued as though she hadn't spoken.

"You want us?" Riley asked.

"That wasn't the invitation," Missy said.

"Well, I'm sorry, Missy, I can't go," Lucas said.

"What?" Missy demanded. "No one's ever turned me down before. In my life," she added to prove her point.

"Missy, these guys are my friends, and I don't want to do anything without them. I appreciate you wanting me to take care of you during a scary movie and showing me your leg and all, but we're only in seventh grade. I think we'd have much more fun hanging out with our friends," Lucas pointed out. "Right, guys?"

Lucas's gaze shifted off of Missy and onto Maya. He turned to Riley, where his gaze lasted a bit longer, before his stare finally slid onto Farkle, where it stayed longer than it did for Riley. Farkle knew that because it stayed long enough for his heart to skip a beat. Twice.

Riley didn't seem to notice, but Maya raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah," Riley agreed.

Missy stood, grabbing her books, and walked to the front of the room.

"Grow up," Missy snapped.

"What's the rush in growing up?" Farkle called after her.

"Not yet," Riley agreed.

"Never!" Maya cheered.

"Hey," Riley said, turning to Lucas.

"Hey," he replied.

"You want to know what the most important part of having friends is?"

"What?" He asked.

"Sometimes you just have to trust them."

"After the war, the US enjoyed its greatest period of growth, prosperity, and happiness," Mr. Matthews announced. "Detention over."

Mr. Matthews approached the door, but the kids didn't move.

"You guys coming?" The adult asked.

"No," Riley responded. "We're good right here."

Mr. Matthews nodded and exited the classroom.

"Thanks for that," Farkle told Lucas.

Lucas smiled a strange smile. Farkle couldn't place what was so strange about it, but it was different than usual. Just as shining, just as amazing; it still made the butterflies in Farkle's stomach do flips and twists, but... it was different. Almost like Lucas felt something, too.

But Farkle knew that couldn't be, and just like that, the memory of last night crashed over him again.

He'd be lucky if anyone ever wanted him. It'd take a _dozen_ miracles to get Lucas to even notice him in that way.

"Hey, huckleberry," Maya stated. "I need to talk to you."

Lucas frowned, but he stood and followed Maya out of the room.

"What was that all about?" Riley asked, confused.

Farkle shrugged. "I have no idea."

They waited five minutes.

"I'm going to make sure they didn't leave us here," Farkle finally said.

He approached the door, and he only opened it a crack before he heard their voices.

"Don't hurt them, Lucas. Promise me that," Maya was saying.

"I promise, Maya," Lucas replied.

Farkle shut the door and returned to his seat just as they reentered the room.

What had they been talking about?

* * *

Farkle closed the door as quietly as possible after he'd returned home after going to the movies with his friends.

"Where have you been?" His mother said, and a hand on his shoulder turned him around. His fearful eyes met his mother's gaze, drunken and filled with lust. A horrifying combination. The lust was bad enough. When his mother was drunk, who knew what she'd be like?

Farkle should've known he wouldn't be able to hide from this nightmare forever...

* * *

After it was over, Farkle stared at the ceiling, contemplating life and death.

His friends had kept him hanging on for years, but would they hate him once they knew what his mother had done to him? What he'd _let_ her do to him?

What was the point in hanging on for one more day?

Farkle opened his desk drawer and threw a hand held pencil sharpener on the floor before stomping on it. The plastic cracked, and the blade lay in the shattered remains of the red exterior. He went to pick it up...

 _Ding_. His phone dinged as a text message arrived, and Farkle picked up the cell phone.

It was from Lucas.

 _Had fun tonight. Want to do it again sometime?_

Farkle was surprised. He'd thought Lucas would spend his time texting Riley, not Farkle.

Lucas had taken time out of his night to text Farkle. Only true friends do that, right?

Maybe Farkle did have something to live for. If nothing else, he wanted to see where his friendship with Lucas and even Riley and Maya went. Maybe he wouldn't be the third wheel anymore. Maybe things would be better.

That was a lot of maybes, but Farkle would take a _maybe_ over _definitely not._

Farkle picked up the blade and tossed it out his window, watching it flutter through the air before landing on the concrete several floors below. It glinted in the darkness of the night, and Farkle didn't regret throwing it out.

Farkle picked up his phone and typed a response:

Sure.

* * *

 _I just want to say: victims of abuse- sexual, physical, or verbal- should never blame themselves, but they often do. That needs to change. Farkle is blaming himself like so many victims do, but trust me, by the end of the story, it won't be that way because VICTIMS SHOULD NEVER BLAME THEMSELVES! If there is one thing I want you to take away from this story, it is that, so that you can help others who have been/are being abused or even yourself if you have been abused. Once abuse victims know that victims should never blame themselves, it brings them one step closer to healing and overcoming the trauma of abuse. Thank you for taking the time to read this message._

 _So many questions in the story: What were Maya and Lucas talking about? Does Maya have feelings for Lucas in this story like in the TV show? Stewart shows up throughout season 1, but he's on a business trip in this story. What am I going to do about that?_

 _All questions will be answered in time._

 _Thanks for reading!_


	4. Boy Meets Support

_Hello, everyone!_

 ** _Disclaimer: I do not own Girl Meets World._**

 ** _Disclaimer: GRAPHIC PHYSICAL ABUSE, MENTIONS OF SEXUAL ABUSE (SEMI-GRAPHIC IN MY OPINION, BUT READ AT YOUR OWN RISK), MENTIONS OF SUICIDE_**

* * *

Farkle awakened to find his mother sleeping beside him. If anyone were to walk in on the scene, they'd probably see it as cute, but the truth was that Farkle's mother was actually passed out from the excessive drinking she'd done last night. She'd also molested him while she was drunk, and that's why she had passed out in his bed and not on the couch or even on the floor.

Farkle slowly moved his mother's arm off of his chest and onto the mattress beside her before sliding out from under the covers. He slipped on some jeans and a long sleeved turtle neck to hide the bite marks and bruises on his neck (Farkle had blocked out most of what happened last night, and seeing those marks in the mirror, he was glad his brain had hidden the memory away).

Farkle stared at his mother, still in a red party dress and shivering in their freezing cold house (either Mother forgot to pay the bills or turned the heat off last night). He sighed before covering her with his comforter (she may abuse him and do things to him, but she was still his mother. Farkle wasn't sure if it was wrong that he still loved her after everything she'd done, and as much as he wanted to ask someone, he couldn't without giving away Their Little Secret) and watching as she snuggled under the covers, and she breathed, softly.

"I love you, Mother," he murmured before leaving the room.

He thought what happened last night and whispered to himself, "But not that way."

Farkle opened the door, plastered a smile on his face, and left his house to face the world.

* * *

"Ladies," he said as he found Maya and Riley standing in the hallway of their school, outside the history classroom.

"Farkle," they replied in unison.

"School dance. I am putting you down for dances one through all of them," he said, sternly. "We will alternate. Me and you, you and me. When you are not dancing with me, you may not dance with anyone else. You will sit and wait until it is your turn to dance with me again."

"Yeah, none of this is happening," Maya told him.

"Well, then may I have one dance with each of you?" Farkle asked.

"Sure," Riley replied.

"Ha, that's all I really wanted. You just got played by Farkle," Farkle joked before walking away.

A few feet away from them, he stopped dead, thinking back on his speech. It was meant as a joke, but... he'd sounded so much like his mother.

 _"Farkle, you are to go to school and come home straight afterward unless I tell you otherwise. You are not to tell anyone about our Little Secret, not even your so called friends or your teacher or your father. You are to do your homework and then your chores and then you will sit in your room until I call you. You are to stay out of my way. Am I understood?"_

Farkle blinked and shook the memory out of his head. That was said to him almost every morning, as though he needed the reminder.

Farkle was once again faced with a question that nearly sent him into a panic attack.

Was he becoming his mother?

* * *

"Friar," Mr. Matthews said, cheerfully, the following day. "Farkle. Hart. You!" He spat the final word.

Farkle frowned as he seated himself and watched Mr. Matthews glare at his daughter.

What had happened there? Farkle had never seen Mr. Matthews so mad at Riley. It reminded him so much of... no, he wouldn't go there. Mr. Matthews was nothing like his mother.

But what if he was? What if Farkle was making a mistake trusting him? What if he was just another person that would hurt him?

No. Farkle wouldn't allow his brain to travel down that road.

"Dad-" Riley began, but Mr. Matthews shushed her while smacking his fingers against his thumb in the universal sign for stop talking.

Riley sighed. "Okay," she muttered before taking her seat.

"I have your tests on Darwin to pass back," he announced. "I'm glad to see that some of you have _evolved_ since the last quiz." He laughed at his own joke.

Farkle looked around at the emotionless class before taking pity on his teacher and barking/honking his unique laugh.

"Ms. Hart," he said, handing her her test. "Mr. Friar, good job. Mr. Farkle!" He exclaimed, handing Farkle the test.

" _A_ number 700!" Farkle cheered. "Huzzah!" He added, pulling a confetti cannon out of his pocket and blowing into the tube, laughing as it honked and exploded confetti out of the end.

I can give Father the good news... over the phone, Farkle added, and at least Mother won't be angry at me for my grades. Let's just hope she won't find anything else to be angry about.

"Mr. Friar," Mr. Matthews said. "I took particular interest in your position that evolution does not take the place of a... how did you put it?"

"A guiding hand that has your best interest at heart," Lucas read.

Maya raised her hand.

"You failed me," she said, flatly.

Farkle blinked.

"Why don't we talk about this after class?" Mr. Matthews asked.

"What's there to talk about?" Maya asked, standing and Farkle could almost hear the tears threatening to escape her eyes in her voice. "You gave me an F. You think I'm a failure."

She sighed and handed her test back to him. "There's nothing more for you to teach me."

"Come on," he said, looking between Maya and his daughter. "Both of you have to say that?"

Maya inhaled, deeply, before approaching the door.

"What? You mean I lost you both?" He demanded. "Maya! You do not walk out of here."

Maya stopped in the doorway and glanced at him one last time before exiting the classroom.

Farkle stood.

"Farkle," Riley began, standing as well.

"Riley, you're there for her all the time, but this is something I can talk to her about. Please, I need both of you to trust me," Farkle said, looking from Riley to the teacher.

Mr. Matthews nodded. "Go."

Farkle exited the classroom and ran after Maya.

"I don't want to talk, Riley," she said, hearing the footsteps and assuming her best friend had come after her.

"Even if you don't want to talk, you need to," Farkle said, and the sound of his voice caused her to turn.

"Farkle, I don't need to talk about anything."

"Yes, you do. Maya, did I ever tell you about my one and only F?" Farkle asked.

Maya frowned. "You failed something?"

Farkle nodded. "I was in fifth grade. I failed a math test because my parents had kept me up all night with their fighting the night before. I couldn't concentrate, and I wound up failing. Maya, here's the truth. Mr. Matthews is trying to support you; he offered to talk to you about it; he truly cares about you, and you're taking that for granted.

"When I got my F, my mom... she called me stupid instead of my name for over a month. She would say Stupid, do your homework or Stupid, get me a drink. And my dad didn't talk to me for two weeks. This was one F. I'm not saying this to make you feel bad or for you to pity me. In fact, you are the only person I have ever told, and you can't tell anyone else, not even Riley.

"Maya, I wish that I had someone as supportive as Mr. Matthews in my life all the time. You are like another child to him. He doesn't want you to fail the class, and the reason he didn't yell at you is because failing is a part of life. You learn from it. Maya, you can study all you want, but if you don't fail sometimes, you never get any smarter.

"Maya, don't blame Mr. Matthews. He wants to help. He loves you; he cares about you. Don't take that for granted."

The shrill ring of the bell echoed through the halls, and the hallway became filled with students. Farkle disappeared into the crowd and left Maya standing in the middle of a flood of people, too shocked by his speech to move a muscle.

"Are you okay?" Riley asked, appearing at her side.

Maya nodded. "Yeah. After school, I think we need to talk to your dad. And then, we need to talk to Farkle."

* * *

"I got my seven hundredth A today," Farkle said into the phone.

His dad laughed. "Great job!"

"When are you coming to visit?" Farkle asked.

"Hmm... probably a month, maybe a month and a half. Good news, though! My visit should fall right around career day."

"Awesome!" Farkle said. "I miss you."

"I miss you, too, kiddo," his dad said, and Farkle could hear his smile. "How's your mom holding up?"

"I wouldn't say she's doing good without you around, but she's getting better about it," Farkle said, which wasn't a total lie. His mom hit him twice as much without his dad here, and she was slowly cutting back on the beatings.

He spoke too soon.

Farkle glanced up and saw his mother standing in the doorway, glaring at him.

"Um, I have to go now, Dad. I'll call you tomorrow... I love you."

Farkle knew his dad was frowning. Farkle wasn't a touchy feely kind of guy. He rarely said he loved his parents, although it kind of went without saying. Farkle saying it aloud must've thrown his dad for a loop.

"I love you, too, Farkle," his dad said before Farkle hung up.

"Hello, Mother," Farkle said.

"Farkle, do you know why Cory Matthews would call to say he was... worried?" His mother asked.

"No. I don't," Farkle replied, taking a few steps back as his mother approached him, towering over the cowering boy.

"He told me that... that friend of your's, Maya... was worried about your living situation. She told him that she suspected that we weren't treating you right. Cory said that he knew your father would never do that, but he didn't mention me."

Farkle took a shaky breath. "I-I don't know why-"

His mother didn't allow him to finish. She lashed out and grabbed his wirsts, lifting him off the floor. Farkle cried out in pain as her strong hands almost crushed his wrists.

"What did you tell them about me?" She snarled.

Farkle sobbed. "I-I just told her about m-my first F when you called me Stupid."

"I thought we agreed that you were to tell no one about our Little Secret."

"I'm sorry! I was trying to help h-" Farkle's statement turned into a yell when his mother tossed him into the kitchen table. Farkle landed in a crumbled heap on the floor, his back burning and already beginning to bruise.

"Sorry doesn't cut it! They could've thrown me in jail, taken you away if they found out. Do you want to go into foster care?" His mother demanded. "Those families will make me look _nice_!" (I am aware that many foster families are nice and caring; in fact, I know some very loving families that take in children and care for them as if they were their own. Farkle's mom is just trying to scare him into keeping the abuse a secret).

Farkle trembled. "No. Please, Mom, I didn't me-"

Farkle yelped as his mother's hands wrapped around his neck, squeezing, tightly. Farkle's breathing became shallow before she squeezed tighter and cut off his oxygen, entirely.

"Momma," he whimpered. "S-Stop," he rasped before he stopped trying to speak.

He wasn't sure how long they laid there on the floor with her pinning him to the ground with a knee on his chest and her hands around his throat, but it felt like an eternity. Just when Farkle's vision started to turn black around the edges, her hands released him.

Farkle collapsed to the floor, gasping for air, and he felt arms wrap around him in an embrace.

"Oh my goodness. Oh my goodness," his mother repeated as she ran her hands through his hair and held him against her body as he took in huge gulps of air. "Farkle, I am so sorry! I don't know what came over me."

Farkle leaned into her, too foggy headed from oxygen deprivation and too distracted by the fact that his mom was hugging him for the first time in years to care that she had almost killed him seconds before.

"Farkle, please. I don't want you to get taken away, and I know you don't want that. I just got so angry and so scared when I thought you were going to be taken away from me and thrown into foster care. I know I hurt you sometimes, and I'm sorry, but I love you more than anything in the world, even your father. Please, Farkle... I've lost so much. Your dad left on a business trip; I haven't seen my parents in over a year; most of my friends avoid me at all costs. You're all I have left. If I lost you, too... I wouldn't be able to survive. Please, Farkle. Don't tell anyone about this. If you get taken away, I'll kill myself. You don't want that, do you?"

Farkle shook his head, rapidly. "No, Mom! Please, I'm sorry for telling. I won't tell anyone ever again. Please don't hurt yourself."

His mother nodded. "I won't... as long as you don't leave me."

Farkle nodded.

"Why don't you head up to bed? Oh, and by the way, I'll be going out tomorrow night, so you can take a taxi home or stay at a friend's house after the dance. Okay? See you on Saturday," his mother said before leaving him on the kitchen floor.

Farkle knew what 'going out' meant. She would get drunk or high or both and come home at three AM and... touch him. She molested him when she was sober, but it was twice as bad when she was drunk, and from what happened today, she'd be doing a lot of drinking and maybe even drugs. When she was that drunk or high, she'd forget he was her son entirely and call him Stewart and... Farkle didn't even want to think about it.

Forget the taxi. He was definitely staying somewhere else.

* * *

"So Farkle... about the other day..." Maya began as her and Farkle danced in the purple light of the gymnasium.

"Maya, please. You're my friend, and I'm glad you care about me, but nothing bad is going on in my house. My parents have high expectations, and back then, they didn't handle failure the best way, but they're better about it now. You'll see on career day in a month and a half. You'll get to see my dad," Farkle told her.

"What about your mom? Is she still hard on you?" Maya asked.

"Sometimes, but she loves me. Even if she's hard on me, I love her, too. Isn't that what matters?" Farkle questioned.

Maya nodded. "Why are you wearing a turtle neck at the dance?" She laughed, changing the subject.

Farkle raised an eyebrow. "Maya Hart, turtle necks are the next big thing. I'm making a fashion statement."

Maya chuckled. "Whatever you say..."

The truth was... Farkle was wearing a white turtle neck under his black jacket to hide the finger shaped bruises around his neck and the small circular indention where his mother's ring dug into his throat. Plus the sleeves were long and tight enough so that there wasn't a chance they'd slip down and reveal the hand print shaped bruises on his skin.

Farkle and Maya walked off to the side, shortly followed by Riley and Lucas.

"I've noticed some fathers have shown up to pick up their daughters," Mr. Matthews was saying. "I'd like to suggest one last dance... a father daughter dance."

Farkle sat back with Lucas while Mr. Matthews approached Riley, who stepped to the side and allowed her father to take Maya's hand.

"Maya and Riley are lucky to have Mr. Matthews," Farkle said to Lucas.

Lucas smiled. "You are, too."

Farkle frowned. "What do you mean?"

Lucas laughed. "I've seen the way he treats you in class. You're just as much a son to him as Maya is like his daughter. He's not going to like me as long as Riley likes me. I have a feeling he would trust you with her, though."

Farkle laughed. "Like that would ever happen. I like Maya and Riley, but... Neither of them are the one."

Lucas nodded. "I know. I like Riley, but... she's not the one I'll marry. She knows that, too, deep down, but we're kids. We don't know where we'll end up in twenty years."

Farkle shrugged. "And it doesn't really matter. At least not yet."

Lucas chuckled. "So where are your parents?"

Farkle sighed. "My mom's with friends, and my dad's on a business trip. I'll probably be staying with Mr. Matthews."

Lucas nodded. "Well, if you ever need a place to stay, come to my house. I've told my parents about you, and they'd be glad to have you."

Farkle nodded. "I'll keep that in mind."

He'd probably need a place to stay some day. A place that wasn't the Matthews' house. He just hoped that that day wouldn't come any time soon.

Lucas left with his father, and Riley and Maya talked in the corner of the emptying gym while Farkle walked up to Mr. Matthews.

"Mr. Matthews," he said.

"Yes, Farkle?" Mr. Matthews asked.

"I kind of need a place to stay tonight. My dad's out of town, and my mom's out with friends. Would it be okay if I stayed with you? I can sleep on the couch," Farkle assured him.

Mr. Matthews smiled. "Of course you can stay, but you're not sleeping on the couch. You can stay in Auggie's room."

Farkle grinned. "Thanks, Mr. Matthews."

"No need to thank me, Farkle. You're always welcome. If you ever need us, we're here for you."

He was obviously referring to what Maya told him yesterday.

Farkle nodded.

He didn't need help (liar, a small voice in the back of his head whispered), but it was good to know that they'd be there if he ever did need help.

Something told Farkle that someday he would need it.

* * *

 _I know Farkle didn't wear a turtle neck to the dance in the show, but he did in my story. Also, the chapter title refers to Farkle learning that Mr. Matthews and his friends are supportive of him, even if he didn't realize it earlier._

 _Don't let Maya's suspicions be misleading. We still have a long way to go before they find out about the abuse._

 _Thanks for reading! Until next time!_


	5. Boy Meets Writing

_Hello, everyone!_

 _IMPORTANT: I did not like the episode that this was supposed to be based off of, so I made it my own idea instead of going along with the episode._

 ** _Disclaimer: I own nothing._**

 ** _WARNINGS: VERBAL ABUSE, DESCRIPTIONS OF CHILD ABUSE_**

* * *

"Face it, kid. You're not good at anything," his mother muttered.

"But Riley said-"

"What? That you were good? She's just trying to be nice."

"At least she isn't mean like you," Farkle muttered before he suddenly straightened, and he prepared himself for the blow that would surely come because of his disrespect.

Surprisingly, his mother laughed. "At least I tell you the truth. I may not be kind or all bunnies and rainbows like your friends, but at least I don't lie to you or sugar coat it when you screw up. Which is most of the time, by the way."

Farkle flinched at the harsh words. "Mother-"

"Seriously, kid, you should stick to academics. You fail at everything else," she grumbled before leaving the room.

Was that true? Was he really not good at anything besides academics? Did that mean acting, art, music... did that mean every activity that didn't involve math, science, or any of the other academic subjects was pointless because he'd never be good at any of them?

It had to be true. His mother was far from nice, but she was painfully honest. She wouldn't tell him something unless it was true.

She was right. She was always right.

* * *

"Farkle," a voice called, and he turned to see Lucas standing behind his desk in history class. "Is it true that you quit the play?"

Farkle nodded. "Yeah, I wasn't any good at it. I know what Riley said, but she was just trying to be nice."

Lucas sat in his desk beside Farkle's. "Who told you that?"

Farkle swallowed. "My mom."

Lucas blinked. "Your own mother told you that?"

Farkle shrugged. "At least she told me the truth."

"Farkle," Maya said as she stormed into the classroom. "You dropped out of art class."

"And you quit choir!" Riley added, appearing at her side.

"And creative writing," Maya said.

"And the play," Lucas finished.

"The only electives and clubs you didn't quit were debate team, academic team, and science club. You obviously had too many extra curriculars; I don't even know how you had enough time for all of those, but you quit all the creative ones, the ones you enjoyed the most," Riley said. "What's up?"

Farkle sighed. "It doesn't matter, guys."

"Yes, it does, Farkle," Maya disagreed.

"No, it doesn't," Farkle reinforced.

"Bay window," Riley snapped, worry shining in her eyes. "After school."

The door opened, and Mr. Matthews stepped inside; he frowned at seeing every student in their seats except for Riley and Maya, who were standing over Farkle's desk, and the gazes of both girls and Lucas were all focused on Farkle.

"What did Farkle do?" He asked.

"Later," Riley assured her father before taking her seat.

"Okay..." he muttered. "Anyway, can anyone tell me who these three people on the board are?"

Farkle raised his hand.

"Farkle?" Mr. Matthews called.

"Albert Einstein, Walt Disney, and Stephen King," he answered.

"Yes. Now... Lucas, can you tell me what made these three so important?"

"Albert Einstein was a great mathematician; Walt Disney is a brilliant and famous writer; and Stephen King writes tons of horror stories," Lucas answered.

"Yes. Now, how many of you would call these three... well known and talented?"

Every hand was raised.

"Would you be surprised to know that someone once told Walt Disney that he had no good ideas?"

You could almost crickets chirping as a shocked silence descended upon the children.

"Or that Albert Einstein didn't speak until he was four and didn't read until he was seven?

Silence continued to reign.

"Or that Stephen King's book, Carrie, was rejected thirty times? King actually threw the book out, but his wife rescued it from the trash and convinced him to resubmit it?

"Does anybody know what my point is?"

Riley raised her hand and spoke slowly as the answer dawned on her. "Be confident in your talents and follow your dreams, no matter what anyone tells you?"

Mr. Matthews smiled. "Exactly. Can you imagine what would happen if everyone gave up the first time someone told them they couldn't do something? How different the world would be? Technology, Microsoft, famous books. Famous movies... even a bunch of food projects wouldn't exist.

"I'm not saying you're going to be good at everything, but if you enjoy doing something, don't give up on it. Maybe you're a writer, and someone tells you to stop writing. Maybe you listen; that book could've been on the best sellers list. Maybe you're a musician, and someone tells you to stop playing music; you could've been the next big thing. Maybe you're a scientist and someone tells you to stop doing science. You could've been the cause of the next big discovery in science.

"My point is... even if you're not good at something, but you enjoy it so much, don't give up on it. Because if you enjoy it enough, you'll develop a passion and that passion will make you determined to improve."

Farkle stared at his desk.

He was stuck between two places, the ideas and opinions of two people he cared about, and he wasn't sure which one was right.

Should he listen to his mother, or should he listen to Mr. Matthews?

* * *

"So why did you quit all of your extra curriculars?" Maya asked.

Farkle shrugged. "There were too many."

"But why did you quit some of the ones you loved the most? Creative writing, art, acting, and choir... you loved all of those activities. Why quit all of them?"

"I wasn't good at them, so I exchanged them for things I was good at. Chess club, math club, and such."

Maya barked a laugh. "What do you mean you weren't any good at them? You _were_ good at them."

"You're just being nice. The person who told me I wasn't any good... she's not what I would call nice, but she is brutally honest."

Maya sighed. "You want the truth. I'll give you the truth.

"You're horrible at acting. You're okay at music and singing, and you're better at posing for paintings in art class than actually painting-"

"Maya!" Riley hissed.

"But," Maya continued, "you love those activities. I've never seen you happier than when you're on stage; you inspire a lot of my art work, Farkle, because you're unique, creative, and that's why art class is the perfect class for you. You're a work of art all on your own. And music... you love singing, Farkle. You always look so happy when you sing.

"And creative writing... you love it, and you're amazing at it!"

Farkle laughed. "Don't lie to me, Maya."

"I'm not, and I can prove it."

Maya pulled a colorful flyer out of her pocket and unfolded it.

"A short story contest is taking place this week. It's supposed to help you connect with your world, and you have to write a short story based on a hard-to-talk-about topic, like self harm, suicide, car accidents, murder, etc. It's a very hard contest due to the topics and the other contestants are also great writers, but I think you could do it. It can't hurt to try. Please, Farkle?"

"For us?" Riley added.

Farkle sighed and took the flyer. Maya handed him another sheet of paper with the topics, and Farkle scanned the list before his eyes landed on one that caught his attention.

Child abuse. Now, that subject, he (unfortunately) knew a lot about.

* * *

A week and a half later, Farkle sat in the audience with Lucas on one side and Maya on the other, Riley beside her. There was a small audience, only two dozen or maybe two and a half dozen people. It was time for the winner of the creative writing contest to be announced.

"The winner of the contest is," Mrs. Rogers, the writing teacher, announced, pausing for dramatic effect, "Farkle Minkus for his short story on child abuse."

Applause rang out, and Farkle's jaw dropped before Maya pushed him forward, and he walked onto the stage.

"Your writing was so realistic, almost painfully so," Mrs. Rogers told him. "If it's all right with you, I'd like you to read it aloud."

Farkle blinked. "Really?"

She nodded, and Farkle stepped up to the podium, staring out at the audience with sweat beading down his foreheard. He'd never been so nervous in front of an audience before.

"Picture Perfect Family," he read the tile. "The tale of an abused child.

 **"Abuse. Such a complicated and simple term. Where does punishment cross the line into abuse? People say honor your mother and father, but if they're hitting you, are you allowed to hit back to protect yourself? Is it betrayal if you turn your parents in to protect yourself?**

 **The child was a baby when it started. His father would work twenty four seven, and his mother would be left alone with him. She'd leave the house to go out drinking with her friends, and her baby would be abandoned in his crib until his father returned home to find the baby alone.**

 **The father was worried for his son's safety, but he never confronted his wife about it.**

 **The child entered school, and he was bullied because he was smaller than the other kids. What they didn't know was that his mother hadn't fed him in three days as a punishment for leaving a few of his toys in the hallway, and she tripped over them in a drunken haze.**

 **Every grade that was below an A was a failure to his mother, not to mention his father. Every time the teacher confessed her fears about the boy's lack of friends, his dismal social life, and his odd behavior, so unlike other children his age, his mother would become angry. She'd ask him why he couldn't be _normal_ , why he had to embarrass the family by not being a _normal_ child, before storming into her bedroom, ignoring the tears streaming down her child's face.**

 **Time passed, and a few slaps became punches and kicks that left him lying on the floor in pain for hours on end.**

 **Remember, he would tell himself. Don't cry. Don't beg for it to stop. It'll only make it worse.**

 **He didn't know why she was doing this. Was it something he did? Why couldn't she love him like mothers are supposed to love their children? Why didn't he deserve love?**

 **The boy went to school, where he was bullied and ignored, and he plastered a smile on his face and told no one of what went on behind closed doors in his home. He had a plethora of lies at hand if he were to ever be questioned.**

 **A black eye. "I fell and hit it on the corner of a table."**

 **A gigantic bruise on his leg that was exposed during PE. "My friend accidentally kicked me during soccer."**

 **A broken arm. "I fell down the stairs."**

 **No one even thought of his family at the time. To the outside world, they were a perfect family. No one thought to look any deeper than what they saw on the outside- a picture perfect family.**

 **Then, the boy reached his preteen years, and injuries started becoming too hard to lie his way out of.**

 **Hand shaped bruises on his wrists and upper arms and shoulders from being shaken.**

 **Split lips, burns, concussions, cuts from wine bottles being thrown at him.**

 **And worst of all, finger shaped bruises wrapped around his throat.**

 **People were suspicious, but everyone was too afraid to ask.**

 **She's mad at him for being alive, saying she never wanted a child, and as soon as she leaves the room, the boy whispers to the empty air, "I wish I'd never been born."**

 **He wanted it all to stop hurting. He couldn't tolerate the pain, the abuse, the physical and emotional torture. He wanted it to stop hurting.**

 **In a way, he got his wish.**

 **The boy was now a teenager, and he laid on the kitchen floor of his house, watching his blood stream down his skin and stain the white floor scarlet.**

 **His eyes wandered in confusion. He'd lost too much blood. He was so confused, and his brain was beyond muddled. His mother had kicked him in the head and pounded his head against a counter. Probably a severe concussion.**

 **It wasn't. It was much worse.**

 **His friends arrived the following morning before school to find their friend lying on the kitchen floor, surrounded by a pool of blood and cold as ice.**

 **At age thirteen, the boy died, all because no one thought to pursue their suspicions, all because he was born to a mother who didn't want a child, all because child abuse is a murderer that will keep on killing... unless someone puts a stop to it."**

Farkle exhaled as the crowd stared at him for a solid minute before thunderous applause rang out.

His friends ran onto the stage and hugged him.

"I told you you were good," Maya smiled.

"That was deep, man," Lucas added.

"The teacher was right. That was frighteningly realistic," Riley told him. "It was amazing and well written."

"Will you rejoin some of your activities now?" Maya questioned.

Farkle nodded. "Definitely. Thanks, guys."

"What are friends for?" Lucas asked, and Farkle felt a smile stretch across his face.

Maybe his mother didn't think he was good for anything. Maybe his father cared more about the company than he did about Farkle. Maybe Farkle's _picture perfect family_ wasn't so perfect.

But that was okay because he had great friends, and for the first time in a long time, Farkle felt like he deserved to be loved.

* * *

 _Sorry the chapter's shorter than usual. I hope it was still good._

 _I chose writing to be Farkle's talent because the show portrays him as a genius that's really good at school and they don't look into a lot of his other talents. Maya's talent was art; sports obviously couldn't be Farkle's talent; and music just didn't seem right. Then, I thought Farkle's really creative, and he's obviously good at English (they mention his straight A's), so maybe he's good at writing._

 _Anyway, thanks for reading! See you next time! Goodbye!_


End file.
